


Luna vs. the Nargles

by crantabulous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:51:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1684007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crantabulous/pseuds/crantabulous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna doesn't understand why people keep hanging up mistletoe.  Don't they know about the nargles?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Luna vs. the Nargles

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter etc. belong to JK Rowling. Written for [](http://humbuggery.livejournal.com/profile)[**humbuggery**](http://humbuggery.livejournal.com/)'s First Official Challenge back in 2006 (prompt: "Luna vs. the Nargles"). Luna's line to Harry is lifted directly from Ch. 21 of OotP. Approx. 1200 words. Thanks to [](http://rufus.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://rufus.livejournal.com/)**rufus** for the beta.

The first Christmas after Luna Lovegood's mother died, she asked her father why he hadn't put the mistletoe up in the kitchen doorway like he normally did.

Her father's face went strangely blank for a moment. "Nargles," he said finally. "Terrible infestation this year--they get into the mistletoe, and by the time New Year's comes 'round, they've destroyed half the house."

"Oh," Luna said. "That's too bad. It was pretty."

* * *

When Luna Lovegood was 13 years old, she received a box of nargles for Christmas.

It looked like a sprig of mistletoe, but Luna knew better. She hadn't recognized the owl that brought the package, and there was no note, so Luna suspected a trick. She poked at the leaves warily, expecting a swarm of nargles to rise up at her. A single tiny, tan-colored beetle crawled out from underneath one of the berries. Luna frowned.

A minor commotion at the other end of the Ravenclaw table caught Luna's attention. Several of the third and fourth-year girls were elbowing each other and smirking in her general direction. "Hey, Loony, is that from your _booooyfriend_?" one of the girls called.

"It's so she can kiss her Strumple-Corned Horshacks," another girl said, snickering.

"They're called Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, actually, but I don't know that they like to be kissed," Luna said. She slipped the tip of her wand under the nargle and brought it closer to her face for a better look.

"Lovegood, what on Earth are you doing?" Michael Corner asked.

"Looking for nargles," Luna replied.

Lisa Turpin scoffed. "She thinks the mistletoe is a conspiracy by the Ministry to control our thoughts," she said.

"No, it's the nargles _in_ the mistletoe that do the damage. But they don't have anything to do with mind control," Luna said. "You're thinking of Wrackspurts. Nargles just destroy things."

Michael rolled his eyes and glanced over at the girls on the other side of the table, who were now hooting with laughter. "Of course."

"I thought they'd be bigger," Luna said.

Michael moved closer and peered over her shoulder at the nargle on the end of her wand. "I think that's just a bug," he said.

Luna nodded wisely.

"Lovegood, look," Michael said, shooting a hard look at the giggling girls. "It's just mistletoe. People kiss under it."

"Well, that seems unwise," Luna said. "The nargles could drop down right into your hair, and you'd probably end up bald."

Michael opened his mouth, then closed it again. After a moment, he sighed. "Watch out for those nargles."

* * *

When Luna Lovegood was 14 years old, she noticed that there really was an awful lot of mistletoe in the castle during the Christmas season. She inspected every bunch she came across, looking for more nargles. So far she hadn't seen any evidence that the bugs were planning to chew their way through the castle, although she supposed that it was more difficult for the nargles to eat through stone than it would be for them to destroy a wood-framed house.

Luna was inspecting a sprig of mistletoe hanging above the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor when she heard footsteps. She looked up to see Neville Longbottom approaching.

"They call it 'vampire plant,' you know," she said. "Do you suppose they call it that because vampires are immune to their wood if they get stabbed through the heart with it?"

Neville blinked at her. "Erm, Viscum album, right. Mistletoe. Oh. I think they call it that because it can drain water out of the trees it attaches itself to," he said.

Luna beamed at him. "Ginny Weasley said you were very good at Herbology," she said.

Neville blushed. "I think they mostly put it up around here now for, you know, the kissing."

Luna nodded. "Risky, that. But I suppose it is pretty. Are you here for the meeting?"

"Erm, yeah," Neville said. He shuffled his feet and looked back over his shoulder. "But I, um, forgot that I meant to ask Hermione--I have to--I'll see you in there, okay?"

"All right," she said. Neville took off down the hallway. Luna turned her attention back to the mistletoe. It looked like it was nargle-free, but she never could be too sure. She narrowed her eyes at it and poked it with her wand.

Nothing happened. Luna nodded in satisfaction. Barnabas the Barmy leered out of his tapestry and waggled his eyebrows. Luna laughed and blew him a kiss over her shoulder as she turned away.

Luna paced the corridor until the door to the Room of Requirement appeared. She slipped inside, where Harry Potter was fussing with Christmas decorations. He looked up, startled, when Luna greeted him.

Harry was muttering something about house-elves when Luna noticed the mistletoe hanging above him. She cocked her head, wondering if this was one of those kissing moments that everyone kept talking about. Luna pointed the mistletoe out to Harry, who jumped back with a look of pure terror on his face.

Clearly not a kissing thing, then. Harry's terrified expression quickly dissolved into an embarrassed grimace. After an awkward silence, Luna nodded. "Good thinking," she said, taking pity on him. "It's often infested with nargles."

Harry opened his mouth, probably to ask what a nargle was, but was interrupted by the arrival of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Luna faded into the background, thinking hard. Interesting--besides having voracious appetites, apparently nargles were useful for making convenient excuses. That was something worth pondering.

* * *

When Luna Lovegood was 15 years old, she went home for Christmas. Her father met her at King's Cross, and they took a taxi home, riding in silence.

The mistletoe-hanging nail was still embedded in the plaster above the kitchen doorway. Luna looked up at it with a small smile, then turned to dig through her bag. She emerged triumphantly a few seconds later, brandishing a small, glittery ornament.

"It's holly," she said. "And it's mostly plastic, so it's guaranteed nargle-free. Apparently Muggles aren't very good with preserving charms, so they decorate with fake plants. Ginny Weasley's father got it for me." Luna held the holly up with one hand and stood on tiptoe to kiss her father on his cheek.

Her father expelled a sound that might have been a laugh. "People don't traditionally kiss under the holly," he said.

"Since when have we ever cared about what's traditional?" Luna asked.

Luna's father laughed, more convincing this time. "It's shedding glitter into your hair."

"Well, the glitter will keep me safe from nargles. Even if there aren't any nargles."

"Luna," her father said, looking lost.

"And," Luna said, as if she had not heard him, "it's pretty."

"Yes, it is," he said.

Luna looked up at him again and smiled. "We do all right," she said.

Luna's father draped an arm across her shoulders and used his other hand to pluck the holly from her fingers. "Yes, we do," he said. "I think we should put this up here, don't you think?"

"Yes, we should," Luna said.

Her father squeezed her shoulder, then pulled his wand out of his sleeve and levitated the holly up to hang on the nail above the doorway. "Happy Christmas, love," he said.

"Yes, it is," Luna said.

-end-


End file.
